From the Beginning
by Petrichor Delight
Summary: The Doctor can't control himself around Amy any more, so he takes matters into his own hands... And other extremities, as well. Trigger warnings, non-con, anal, bondage, drugged sex, first time, dark!Doctor, rated M for a reason!
1. Chapter 1

**AN: ****This is EXTREMELY dark! Trigger warnings, etc, non-con, anal, bondage, drugged sex, first time, dark!Doctor, screwdriver, rough and merciless sex... pretty much every kink I could think of rolled into one. **

**Who the hell knows where Rory went during this entire story ;) **

**This is my first smut fic so please be gentle :) **

**Cheers! Enjoy! And please review!**

Amy Pond was just an ordinary girl.

Sure, she traveled in time with a two-hearted alien and had visited planets long since dead or yet to be created, but, in the end, she was just an ordinary girl.

And ordinary girls were not lustful or eager every second of the day. Sure, they had their fantasies, and days when every touch sent the prospects of more rushing to their heads and between their legs. Sure, they could flirt and tease until their arousal was almost palpable in the air. But ordinary girls also had off-days, when they would be too exhausted or angry or hurt or chocolate-deprived to pay much attention to any male advances, much less to males who took hard work and endless coaxing.

So, after 48 hours on the run from Trilaxian fire-monks and little to no sleep and food, Amy Pond wasn't very intent on anything but a stop at the TARDIS kitchen and a long-awaited date with her beautiful, beautiful bed.

She stumbled through the TARDIS door, knees shaking with fatigue, every muscle aching painfully. Her long ginger hair was matted and dirty, and her limbs were stiff from running. Hanging onto the doorframe for just a second, Amy collapsed to the ground of the TARDIS and flopped onto her back, content to go to sleep right there.

The Doctor stumbled in behind her, nearly tripping over his young companion. He chuckled, but his forehead was creased with worry.

"I'm sorry, Pond. I'm so sorry I got us into that. But you… You did absolutely brilliantly! 48 hours out there, in the wild, the TARDIS nowhere in sight, and you outran that pack of monks like a Wasekkian sloth!"

Amy groaned and forced herself to open her eyes, her hands on her temples. "Like a sloth? Doctor, I think you're confusing your animals. These aches definitely did _not_ come from moving like a sloth."

The Doctor chuckled again, reaching out a hand to help her up. After a very long mental battle, she grudgingly took his hand and allowed herself to be pulled up to a standing position again.

"Amy, _you've _never been to Wasek. The whole planet is in a state of temporal flux. Mixed with the way the planet spins on its axis, it causes every creature to seemingly speed up by about three-"

The Doctor was interrupted by a long groan from Amy, who was rubbing her temples as if the Doctor's incessant babbling was actually causing her pain.

"If you don't mind, Doctor, I think I'll just go to bed now."

"Oh. Right. Right, of course, Pond. It's been a very long two days."

Amy gave her childhood friend a wan smile, and stumbled off towards her bedroom. Or, at least, she _tried _to. Amy made it all of five steps before she lost her balance and collapsed against the center console.

The Doctor was there in a millisecond, gently propping her up on his shoulder and guiding her across the console room.

"There, there, Pond. You've been so very, very brave and you are completely exhausted. I'm sorry. I never wanted you to be hurt."

Amy only managed a small sigh against his shoulder, her eyelids drooping closed as they stumbled awkwardly down a corridor.

Finally, the strain of her arm wrapped around the Doctor's shoulder became too much for her aching muscles.

"Doctor," she whimpered against his tweed jacket. "Everything hurts."

The Doctor stopped and carefully rearranged her arm so that it was more comfortable, letting more of her body weight lean against his side.

"I know, I know," he murmured in her hair. "Here, let's go to the med bay, I can help you feel better before you go to sleep."

Amy nodded sluggishly against his shoulder, and the pair began moving again. The TARDIS helped by diverting some hallways, and they entered the med bay almost instantly. It was fortunate, because not a minute after they approached an exam table did Amy lose all control of her tired muscles, collapsing onto the flat surface beneath her. The Doctor caught her head gently and lifted her legs onto the table.

Amy could barely hear the Doctor shuffling around behind her as she lay on the table, her consciousness quickly fading. She was so, so tired. If only she could go to sleep right there…

Amy opened her heavy eyes at the feeling of a syringe being stuck into her arm.

"Ow!" She let out halfheartedly, already closing her eyes again.

"It's okay," the Doctor said, his voice low and soft. "It's just medicine to help your muscles stop hurting. It should take complete effect in just a few seconds."

Right on cue, a pool of cool, peaceful feeling spread out from Amy's chest, leaking into each limb and washing over the hot, achy feelings harbored there. Amy immediately relaxed, all of the pain gone.

"Better?" the Doctor asked.

"Much," Amy sighed contentedly. Now she could _really _sleep. Wait.

"Doctor," she mumbled. "Food."

The Doctor nodded and opened a mini fridge on the wall which hadn't been there before. He pulled out a hearty looking sandwich wrapped in plastic, and it looked like her favorite type. Amy tried to sit up, but despite her pain being gone, her muscles still felt like liquid. The Doctor noticed her predicament and stood behind the table, propping her back up on his chest so that she could sit up. Amy eagerly took the sandwich and started unwrapping it, but her fingers were dumb and heavy. Frustrated, Amy let out a low growl. The Doctor again came to her rescue, shedding the plastic to the floor with quick, nimble fingers.

Although he had been running just as much as she had, something about his Timelord physiology gave him fifty times her human endurance. He was probably tired, but not nearly as exhausted as Amy was. Or was he? Amy realized that she had only ever assumed that Timelords needed to sleep.

This train of thought was too complicated for her battered mind, so she turned her attention to the sandwich in her hands. The first bite was heavenly. So was the second. But after the third bite, Amy's eyes began drooping closed, and her hand, still clutching the sandwich, fell limp onto her lap. Even her hunger could not stave off the needs of her abused body.

The Doctor let out a small 'hmmm', and, rotating her body so that he could prop her up against a counter, silently took the sandwich out of her hand and started to feed her in tiny pieces. Amy appreciated the act at first, but quickly realized how truly mortifying this was. Was she really so weak that she couldn't even _feed _herself? Amy waved her hand in an attempt to swat the Doctor and his damned sandwich away, but he continued to valiantly treat her like a helpless child.

"Doctor, no," she finally uttered. "It's bad enough that I can't even sit up straight without your help."

The Doctor frowned and stared at her helplessly. "But you're right, Amy, you need food. Your body has been seriously deprived and I don't want you to be even sicker in the morning. I have to get sustenance in you _now_, before you become unconscious."

"Then get that magic fridge to give me a healing potion," Amy mumbled, already losing her will to continue this argument.

The Doctor stared at her wide-eyed and snapped his fingers. "Yes! Of course! Brilliant, Pond! It won't even require you to swallow."

He rummaged around in some drawers until he emerged triumphant with another damned needle, the syringe filled with a shiny-looking purple liquid.

Amy squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She hated needles.

The medicine, or potion, or whatever it was, entered into her system immediately. The throbbing ache of hunger was erased just as quickly as the pain in her muscles, and she sighed contentedly again.

"Off to bed!" the Doctor said cheerily, and repeated the process of leaning Amy against him, until they were out of the med bay and back into a dark metal corridor.

Amy saw the door to her room a few paces away, and closed her eyes again, breathing in the comforting, earthy scent of the Doctor's jacket.

But the Doctor stopped moving and she felt his body leave her as he leaned her against the corridor wall, standing with some difficulty. Amy didn't bother opening her eyes.

The Doctor's touch was back a few seconds later, as she knew it would be.

"Let's get you in your jammies, okay? We don't want you to sleep in those uncomfortable clothes, now do we?" The Doctor's voice was soft and kind. This proposition, unlike the feeding, was not too much of a breach of dignity.

Amy gratefully let the Doctor pull her heavy jumper over her head, and she heard it settle to the ground with a soft rustling. Next he unbuttoned the stiff and uncomfortable jean miniskirt, sliding it down to her ankles. With the Doctor's arms to support her, she slowly stepped out of the skirt. The Doctor kicked it aside. Next he slowly unpeeled her stockings from her sticky legs, letting her step out of them equally as slowly. Amy was now in just her knickers and a tank top over her bra. The cool air felt nice.

If she had been any more lucid, Amy would have wondered why the Doctor was undressing her here, instead of in her bedroom. Where her jammies still sat, folded on top of her bed.

The Doctor moved to take her tank top off, and even the release from that thin material felt good. Now she expected the Doctor to carry her the few paces towards her bed, tuck her in, and let her slip away into delicious sleep.

Instead, she felt his cool fingers on the warm skin of her chest, undoing the front-clip of her bra.

At this Amy finally opened her eyes, looking up at the Doctor's shadowed face quickly.

"Doctor? It's okay, I usually sleep in my bra."

The Doctor's look, or what she could see of it in the dark, was incredulous.

"Really? How can you stand to sleep with those wires poking into you?" he asked. As if to prove his point, the doctor pressed down on the wire rimming of Amy's bra, until it pressed into her skin almost painfully.

"Ow! Doctor, that hurts!" The Doctor immediately released the pressure, and Amy's heartbeat slowed. "It doesn't hurt unless someone does _that_," she said, slightly annoyed.

She started towards her door, but found herself still infuriatingly unable to move.

"Doctor, do you mind-"

The Doctor wordlessly pulled her body back towards his, a few more paces away from the door, and leaned her against the cool wall again.

"No, Doctor, I'm ready to go to bed," Amy explained tiredly.

"Be quiet," the Doctor ordered gruffly, and Amy did just that, staring at him stupidly.

"Wha-" she began, but the doctor silenced her roughly. His fingers moved slowly back to the clasp of Amy's bra, this time unhooking it completely. Before she could say a word, the Doctor had expertly removed the bra and flung it to the floor.

"Doctor!" Amy squealed, and flung her hands around her bare chest. "Wha… What are you doing?" she said, her voice shaky.

"What I want," he replied simply, and Amy tried to wrap her mind around the statement. What he wanted? Slowly, even through her clouded mind, a warmth crept into her thoughts. Is he saying he's always wanted this, to see her naked?

Amy smiled at him, and slowly removed her arms from across her breasts. "Is this what you want?" She asked him, threading her fingers through his soft brown hair.

In a flash, the Doctor had yanked both her arms savagely behind her head, and pinned them with one of his hands.

"Doctor!" Amy shouted in pain. "You're hurting me!"

Something passed over the Doctor's face, something dark and unfamiliar that sent a tight pit of terror into her stomach.

"This is what _I_ want, Amelia. It has _nothing _to do with you." The Doctor's voice held none of its usual kindness or goofiness. Instead, it sent a deep chill racing through Amy's gut. The way he had said her name… It was almost like a curse.

Amy shivered involuntarily, very aware of her state of undress. "Doctor, what's going on? You're scaring me."

It was like he hadn't even heard her.

In the blink of an eye, the Doctor tore Amy's knickers off of her legs, the fabric cutting sharply into her thighs as it strained to be broken. Amy let out a cry of pain, trying to wrench her arms away from the Doctor's grip, but he held tight.

Without warning, two of the Doctor's fingers plunged deep inside of her.

_Oh, God_. Amy writhed, the Doctor's slender fingers moving in and out of her, but God, it _hurt_. She hadn't been wet at all, hadn't expected it at all, and he thrust in with such _awful_ force…

Soon, though, the Doctor's steady movements began to send ripples of pleasure through her otherwise numb body. Wetness pooled between Amy's legs, coating the Doctor's fingers. He thrust another inside of her, and she moaned with pleasure.

"Doctor-" she panted as he crooked one finger and sent a wave of hot sensation to her brain. "Doctor. What- What brought this on?"

Amy couldn't help but be happy, even with her arms still throbbing above her head and the red marks on her thighs still stinging. Even with what seemed like the weight of a thousand planets pressing down on her, in the form of total exhaustion. She had dreamed too many times about the Doctor doing this to really think about everything else.

The Doctor ignored her again, continuing to push his slick fingers in and out, in and out, in and out. Between her heavy breaths and the rhythmic, soft aching of pleasure spreading from in between her legs, she began to droop against the wall, her legs failing to hold up her weight any longer.

The Doctor would have none of that. Suddenly, with excruciating pain, the Doctor pushed in his other two fingers, stretching her cruelly, painfully, until he formed his fingers into a fist mercilessly, pushing into her hard enough and far enough that her body was actually forced into a more upright position. She screamed in pain, black spots crowding her eyelids, and shook violently.

The Doctor stood like that, his fist deep inside of her, waiting for her to stop shaking.

"Doctor- I- Have you ever… Done this before? It's… It's _very _painful if you're too rough, or if there isn't enough lubrication," Amy breathed hardly. Which there certainly wasn't, because Amy had just begun getting aroused moments before, and every reaction was dampened by Amy's exhaustion.

The Doctor's face moved out of the shadows and she caught a black glint in his eyes. His face was unapologetic, though he must have heard how much it hurt, and almost… _Gleeful_.

"Do you think I _care_ if you're in pain, Amelia?" The Doctor spat, and the venom of his words caused Amy to recoil against the metal wall, a stab of hurt pounding her gut.

"This is about what _I _want, Amelia, what pleasures _me_. You might as well accept that." The Doctor quickly withdrew his fist, causing a rush of breath to tear through Amy's lips, and let go of her wrists just long enough to yank her head up by her hair. He wiped his fist off on her hair nonchalantly, before uncurling his fingers and admiring the remaining silvery sheen of her wetness on them. Tightening his grip on her hair, the Doctor led her mouth to his fingers, parting her lips with his sodden hand.

Amy shook, and tried to step away, but the Doctor tightened his grip. Amy's heart raced. This was not the Doctor. There was something terribly, terribly wrong. She kept her mouth clamped tight.

The Doctor glared at her in an unnatural, unthinkable look of pure hatred, and stomped on her foot.

Amy cried out in pain before she could think, and the wet fingers shoved into her mouth.

Amy whimpered in protest, but the Doctor simply shoved his fingers towards her throat, until she was gagging and certain she couldn't breathe. The Doctor pulled them back to her tongue.

"I won't release you until you suck them dry." The Doctor's voice was dark, commanding, and emotionless. She knew he wouldn't have any qualms about hurting her, so she began sucking at one of his fingers.

Her taste was slightly sweet, and it became much easier to suckle the Doctor's flesh as he pulled each clean finger out. Her tongue ran up and down the length of his finger, and inexplicably she found myself savoring the juices, taking her time as she cleaned the last finger off. Finally, the Doctor pulled his finger out of her mouth and released her hair.

Amy's legs buckled beneath her, until she bent over at the waist, her face and palms resting on the cold metal of the corridor floor. The Doctor… Her Doctor… Her Doctor had hurt her, caused her to scream in pain, and didn't even take notice. It didn't make sense. It didn't make sense. It didn't make sense.

Amy repeated this phrase in her mind numbly, shuddering, tears somehow appearing at her cheeks, until she became aware of the Doctor looming over her, watching. She looked up. He was… Smiling. Amy shuddered. She should have tried to get away, but her tired mind- any state of mind- couldn't fathom what had happened to turn her Raggedy Doctor into a sadist.

"Doc-Doctor-" she trembled, words feeling thick and heavy on her tongue. "It's psychic pollen, or, or alien spores, or you're possessed. You're possessed!" Amy cried out triumphantly, sure she had gotten down to the bottom of the Doctor's behavior.

The Doctor let out a chuckle. But this chuckle, it was so different than the one she had heard as he helped her up from the TARDIS floor only… only an hour ago, at most. It was mirthless. Flat. And cruel.

"No, Amelia. It's just me. Just your childhood friend, the Raggedy Doctor, always come to save the day. You wouldn't disobey your Raggedy Doctor, would you, Amelia?"

Amy tried to shake her head clear, but the Doctor's continual use of her name somehow made her comfortable and warm, even as her sex throbbed with latent pain and her lips still tasted of her own cum.

"N-no…" She muttered dumbly, her hooded eyes reaching out for his in the darkness, seeking on a primal and childish level, her Raggedy Doctor's approval. She knew that he was still in there, somewhere, underneath the alien poison.

Instead of approval, Amelia only found contempt.

"Fragile human, so _breakable_," he murmured, kneeling down to Amelia's level. "So _easy_ to make fall apart. To pieces, so easy to _shatter_." The Doctor's fingers trailed up Amy's stinging thighs until it reached her entrance, and despite herself, her sex throbbed with need. Amy's mind, however, completely disagreed. She scooted away from him, trying to put any amount of distance she could between them.

The Doctor simply chuckled again in that awful way and pinned her against the wall with one strong hand.

The Doctor trailed his fingers lazily up her thighs, darting around the apex every time he came close to that traitorous throbbing. He bent down to trace his tongue around the swell of her breasts, turning to suck on her hardening nipples. Amy whimpered, though terrified by the Doctor's words, comforted by this new and gentle touch that reminded her more of _her _Doctor.

Wetness dribbled from between her legs as he sucked and nipped at both of her breasts, all the while bringing his fingertips torturously close to her clit. When she felt his touch, she could almost forget everything that had happened and pretend that the Doctor was carrying out one of her endless fantasies, gentle and loving and _so skilled_. At least, the last part applied to him.

Finally, his finger touched her there and she gasped with pleasure, his deft hand stroking one long finger along her soaked lips and pressing down hard on her clit. Agonizingly slowly, nothing like the first time, the Doctor slid his finger inside of her and curled it, unfurled it, curled it again.

The pleasure was too much. With a smiling, gentle Doctor on her mind, Amy came screaming.

The Doctor caught her shoulders as she shook like a leaf, her abused body not cut out for such a release. She shivered breathlessly, dripping a tiny puddle onto the corridor floor, muscles tightening and untightening. The Doctor smiled darkly and guided her head down to the floor, trailing her lips over the puddle of cum.

Amy instinctively let her tongue flick out to lap up the moisture, her taste now familiar. When she shuddered and stopped, the Doctor forcefully took her head between two hands and forced it to move back and forth over the floor. Her tongue flicked out again- she was too numb to argue with his instructions- and lapped up the remaining liquid until the floor was left spotless.

It was only after the Doctor forced her to lap her cum off the floor that Amy slumped back, unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own Doctor Who. **

Amy awoke to the sting of a syringe leaving her skin. Her blood pounded through her body, and although she still felt drained and numb, her body thrummed with energy and her eyes were alert. Her pussy burned with a pain she had never felt before and she was sopping wet.

And then the memories came rushing back.

Amy pushed up from the floor, screaming, wildly turning to find the Doctor and somehow, escape. He sat on the floor, where he had leaned over her to inject whatever it was, and stared at her, caught off guard, as she quickly backpedaled away from him.

"How long has it been?" Amy asked breathlessly, her back pressed against the door to her bedroom. Her fingers were poised above the button that would open the door and admit her to safety.

"Hmmm… Five minutes," the Doctor grinned.

"But… That's impossible. I feel awake. I mean, I feel like I've slept for hours."

"Of course you do, Amelia. I injected you with a high tech stimulant that will leave you weak but very much alert. It's so much more fun that way, don't you think? No more blunted senses, and no more uncalled for fainting," the Doctor wrinkled his nose as if he hated the inconvenience of her body giving out.

"Don't come near me," she growled, fingers fluttering over the button. Her heart raced with terror, remembering all of the things he had done to her already and how powerless she was against him.

The Doctor smirked knowingly, and spread his arms wide from his sitting position. "As if you have a choice," he said. It was then that she noticed his glistening fingertips. She thought she had licked them clean.

The Doctor followed her gaze and looked up from his dripping fingers, face painted with mock surprise. "Oh! It looks like I had my way with you while you were still unconscious!" The Doctor shook his head. "Silly me. Always confusing myself." He glanced down at the floor, which Amy could now see was smeared with just a hint of blood.

Amy gagged, her hand slipping away from the wall.

The Doctor frowned innocently, but there was a glint of cruelty in his eyes. "Oh," he pouted. "Maybe I was too rough?"

Amy's head spun.

The Doctor got up sinuously and paced towards her. "You really are amazingly fragile, though, Pond. To think that I could do so many things- and so _hard_! And all the while you didn't wake up? I'm afraid you're seriously sick. Nothing two weeks of bed rest and tender care won't cure. Of course… You're not going to get that, are you?"

Amy finally registered his slow advance, and slammed her fist on the button. She turned and ran through the door before she could even register his face, the heavy metal whooshing to a close behind her.

"You _MONSTER_!" Amy screamed at the top of her lungs, pounding her fists against the metal door. She slumped against the door and calmed her rattled breathing.

When she looked up, though, she nearly screamed again.

It wasn't her bedroom in front of her. It was another endless, dark corridor. She could have _sworn _that when they'd stopped last night… tonight? today? that they had been in front of her bedroom.

Or maybe the Doctor had never planned to bring her there, and she was too tired to notice or argue.

Another, more pressing thought entered Amy's brain. Her bedroom door automatically locked behind her when she entered each night. The doors that acted as junctions between corridors did not.

Amy pushed away from the door frantically and started running. She chanced a glance behind her, and it didn't seem like the Doctor was following. Yet.

Amy ran until her lungs burst, her side stinging. The TARDIS was a maze, never ending corridors leading to never ending corridors, each turn more disorienting, each route seeming tighter, with a lower ceiling and a narrow passageway.

The TARDIS was sentient. When it wanted her to go somewhere, it took her there, and there was no way Amy could stop it. She just hoped that the TARDIS was on her side. It had to be. The Doctor was under the influence of something alien and dangerous. The TARDIS would never allow her precious Doctor to hurt someone he loved.

Amy stopped running for a moment, winded. Love. Amy was sure that the Doctor had loved her. If not in that way, at least in a platonic way. She was the girl who waited, the girl who didn't make sense, his Amelia Pond. He would never do any of this intentionally. She was absolutely sure of it.

But for some reason she latched onto another test. If the TARDIS protected her, the Doctor was being coerced one way or another. If not…

Amy shuddered again. No. No, the TARDIS would protect her. Any minute now she would find a room with blankets and food and medicine and a lock that not even the Doctor's sonic screwdriver could get through. Maybe even an escape pod, or some sort of transporter beam? She would go home, and when the Doctor came back for her, it would be safe.

The burning between Amy's legs hadn't subsided, and now that she was stopped she could feel the pain even more acutely. The Doctor had done this. The Doctor had made her bleed.

_And the Doctor will do it again, you bloody idiot, if you don't hurry up!_ Amy scolded herself. Gingerly starting to move again, she forced herself to sprint down the corridor.

She was running with her head down when she smacked into something. Her legs, even after the stimulant, had begun to tremble again, and she was panting. When she looked up, none of that mattered, because the screaming pain between her legs, like a knifepoint, roared to life again at the sight of him.

He was standing with his hands on his hips, like a put-off parent, shaking his head and _tut-tutting _loudly. Amy's heart dropped practically to her toes.

"Now that you've managed to anger me, Amelia, would you like to get back at it? I think I'll fuck you into the floor and make you come until every stimulant I have can't save you."

Amy backed away slowly. "You will never get your hands on me again and I swear to God if you don't give the Doctor back to me I'll kill you!" she screamed at him.

The Doctor smiled. "Silly Amelia. Always so naïve. You still think I'm not really him, don't you? Well, I can prove it. I remember everything we've done together quite… _fondly_."

Amy didn't intend to listen to any more of his cruelty, so she ran back where she came and rushed through the corridors. Maybe the TARDIS was still trying to protect her, she had just slipped up.

And then she turned a corner and smacked right into him again.

This time he didn't give her time to escape. He yanked her hair and watched as a metal door opened on the ceiling, which had definitely not been there before. A shuddering weight of metal unfurled from its compartment. The metal began to unfold and clamp together, until it formed the shape of a sort of standing up rack, with what were clearly two handcuffs and two ankle cuffs, one at each corner of the rectangular frame.

Amy bit down on his arm as hard as she could, and he loosened his grip with a yelp. She dashed around a corner, anywhere to get away from him, and turned another-

Where he and his contraption stood, his face livid. She tried to run again but he caught her by the ends of her hair and pulled her back, sending white-hot pain through her scalp. But this time, Amy wasn't exhausted or deprived. The stimulant had given her something close to normal feeling and she kicked, screamed, punched and bit every piece of flesh she could find as the Doctor fastened her left wrist into a dangling cuff, then her right, then her ankles.

It wasn't enough. Amy was left hanging by her spread arms in thin air, her legs spread wide apart by where her ankles were fastened, completely naked. There was an equal, ample amount of space behind and in front of her before walls enclosed the passageway.

"You've made me very angry now, Amelia. I will not be so gentle with you again."

"Gentle?" she screamed, trying to rock the metal rack. It didn't budge, or swing, and the cuffs didn't give a millimeter. "You've been everything but gentle! You're despicable! You're inhuman, and disgusting, and-" before Amy could use her full arsenal of unrepeatable names, a cloth gag unfurled from the ceiling and somehow wrapped itself tightly around Amy's head. She sobbed as it constricted her mouth.

"I'm tired of your voice," the Doctor said lazily. "You must understand, Amelia, that the TARDIS and I are… Symbiotic. We love each other, and would do anything for each other. Do you understand? That means that anything I desire could come out of those walls, and those bindings are stronger than any substance known on Earth. There is no escape. No landing. No calling for help."

Amy cried loudly, her tears running over the rough cloth of her gag and onto her bare breasts.

The Doctor simply ignored this spectacle, and continued. "Now, I'm going to give you some medicine to heal your cunt, which will make what's to follow much more pleasurable for you."

As if Amy had a choice.

The prick of the needle came on the backside of her upper thigh, and she wriggled in the bonds.

This was just as fast-acting as everything else he had forced into her. In seconds, the unbearable pain in her cunt had disappeared. And one second more, she began to feel a warmness grow there instead. Every part of her was hot, her skin itched, and dear _GOD_ was she aware of how deliciously, sensuously naked she was. How close the Doctor was… The Doctor's cock, just inches from her sopping hole…

"Did I mention?" The Doctor added, a smug grin adorning his face. "I took the liberty of mixing in the most powerful aphrodisiac I've ever come across?" He steepled his fingers and leered at her. "Pun intended."

Amy couldn't even roll her eyes, she was so ready for that _thick aching _cock _deep _inside her.

"I don't think this will be necessary any more," the Doctor said, and pulled off her gag.

As soon as it was off Amy moaned loudly from the pressure building between her legs.

The Doctor pulled out a chair from somewhere unimportant and sat, taking his sonic screwdriver out and fiddling with it.

But oh, there, _there_, Amy could see the bulge of his beautiful cock in his still-buttoned pants, so _wonderful _ and _heavy_, and the way it would enter her as she screamed, _as he ravaged her crack_, as he made her come hot and heavy and-

Yowling like a wildcat, Amy tossed her head back and felt ripples of pleasure rush through her, arching her back as she came. Came… Without even touching herself, or the Doctor touching her.

The Doctor looked up pleasantly, setting his screwdriver aside. "Ah. _There_ it is. Good stuff," he smirked.

Amy was shaking with the aftereffects of orgasm, unbelieving that just a drug could make her come. But not just a drug…

"_Doctor_," she moaned, so overcome by sensation that if she had to wait one more second she would shatter again.

"What, little Amelia?" he asked her, feigning boredom. But she knew better.

"Fuck me, _please_ Doctor, fuck me!"

The Doctor smiled ravenously. "It won't be quite as easy as that."


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own Doctor Who. **

**AN: I **_**told **_**you it was dark. If non-con (in other words, the full-on rape enclosed in this story) upsets you, I REPEAT- turn back now. Well, maybe it's already too late…**

**Satisfied reader: I think I'll leave a review and make the author's guilt for writing this ebb the tiniest bit!**

The Doctor retrieved the Sonic Screwdriver from his chair, fiddled with the frequency, and without pretense buried it in Amy's pussy. She smeared cum all over it, but he didn't mind. It seemed the instrument was resistant, for the purpose of scenarios just like this.

It felt so good, a nice pressure against her clit, rubbing her in all the right ways. But the Doctor hadn't turned it on. He configured it to exactly the right frequency and-

She came all over his hand, panting for more.

So he gave her more.

And more. And more. Orgasm, breathe, vibration. Orgasm, breathe, vibration. Sometimes he didn't let her breathe. Orgasm, vibration, orgasm, vibration. Sometimes no vibration was needed.

She came on his hand, she came on his arm, she came on his face. She screamed until she was hoarse, and when her voice broke and her throat burned the Doctor sprayed something down her throat and she screamed like an animal again. He never let her have too many before he sprayed her. He liked to hear her scream.

Amy lost count at thirty, which had to have been several hours ago. Her cunt drained itself over and over again, until at last red blotted her vision and her body was enveloped in pure, unbridled pain. The Doctor let this go on for twenty vibrations, each after the other, until Amy begged for him to _kill her_, just please, _please Doctor, KILL HER!_ At twenty-five the pain was a mind numbing friend, a drug, a constant companion, sweat trickling down her back and bursting pain fizzling in every inch of her, until she got off on it, the pain as a cruel master bringing her to edge, and the pain as a soft blanket of comfort after a rocking orgasm. At thirty, he stopped.

Her body was too abused to form coherent thoughts, to move, and Amy was grateful for the restraints because otherwise she would be in a heap on the ground. Amy felt her consciousness slipping away until she was pricked by another needle. He had given her the drug that healed her cunt, and the drug that dissolved the pain in her muscles. Another needle yet came with stimulant. She wondered vaguely if she could overdose from these drugs, and if she would be alive by the time it ended.

If it ever ended.

The Doctor sheathed his screwdriver and Amy felt relieved- no. Why would she feel relieved? She _loved _the screwdriver, loved the way the Doctor could fuck her without even touching her, dirty and wrong and delicious. But there was something about… The way she was hanging there… Naked, legs spread apart forcibly, while the Doctor lazed around, fully clothed, watching her come again and again…

Her train of thought was interrupted when the Doctor squirted something cool and slick into her butt crack from behind. Immediately, her cheeks spread apart painfully, the slightest contact with the liquid dissipating the tightness in her arse and opening it up like a book with a broken spine. She gasped at the sudden rush of air, the sudden vulnerability. She had never been opened up this quickly before, doubted anyone had.

The Doctor thrust his entire fist into her wet hole, making a squelching sound, until he pushed inside of her and his forearm was enveloped in the hot, wet, cheeks.

Amy mewled and her body melted around the fist. His fingers extended inside of her one by one, until his hand was a sun, a burning star inside of her, five points so deep into her tight arse and stretching, _stretching _in such a beautiful way-

Amy came around the Doctor's hand, her walls constricting and tightening, squeezing his fingers into even more pleasurable places.

When at last he pulled out of her, Amy felt exhausted and full. Her asshole throbbed, but it had been worth it to feel the Doctor so _deep _inside of her.

Amy couldn't see him, but she could hear him undo the zipper of his trousers. He let out a small moan as his erection sprang free, and Amy could imagine it glistening with pre-cum, stiff and hard and _huge. _She tried to arch her body towards him, but the restraints were just as unyielding as ever.

"Beg for my cock." The Doctor orders. It's the first time he's spoken to her since the first few orgasms so many hours ago, impaling her with the screwdriver, calling her disgusting things and dirty names that she accepted and loved to bear.

"_You're just a dirty little cunt, aren't you, Amelia? Fit to bursting and pouring with cum for your imaginary friend. Just look at your tight, eager looking hole, sopping, needing. You dirty little slut, Amelia. You want me to fuck you, don't you? You are a whore and you want me to fuck you against the wall, fuck you until you can't walk, thrust into you and make you come until you can't see or speak. Don't you?" The words were whispered into her ear as the sonic brought her to the edge again and again. _

"_Yes!" Amy cried, writhing. "YES!" _

Even the sound of his voice, deep and gravelly and unconcerned, made her approach the edge.

"Beg for my cock, Amelia," the Doctor repeated slowly, as if dealing with a slow and stupid child.

Maybe she was. She couldn't bring herself to remember anything, to think about anything except the pain and the pleasure the Doctor gave her. She couldn't remember why she was restrained, why the Doctor wasn't taking her in bed, slowly and gently and brilliantly, like she'd always imagined. She couldn't remember why he needed to keep poking her with awful needles.

The Doctor grew tired of the delay. Pulling a switch out of thin air, he lashed her buttocks savagely, the flail cutting into her sensitive skin and bringing up blood. Amy cried out, trying once again to escape her cuffs, but only managed to tire herself out.

"Beg for me inside of you, or you will not be allowed to eat me."

Amy shook her head of hair. Her neck throbbed from supporting the weight of her head so long, the cuffs bit into her skin savagely. She tried to remember why she felt so tired, and couldn't.

Maybe she should… Maybe she should ask the doctor to get down from here.

"Doctor, I… I need to get down from here," she decided shakily.

The Doctor frowned, annoyance flickering across his face.

He reached for a syringe of aphrodisiac again, but Amy interjected. "I know what you did. I remember now. You… You're raping me. And no matter how many times you poison me with that, no matter how many times you trick me, it will always wear off, and I will _always _fight you!"

"You think you have any power over me, slut? You're dripping right now, quivering, ready for me to take you, and you think that you can _fight _me?" The Doctor's voice dripped contempt and disgust. He raked his eyes over her sweat-glistened body, nipples hard, bruises littering her skin, clit engorged and dripping. "You will not escape from me. And, Amelia, I have ways of making you stop fighting."

Amy gasped and struggled under her cuffs as the Doctor injected her with more aphrodisiac.

Immediately she could see how stupid she had been. How could she talk to the Doctor like that, her savior, her master, her source of pleasure, when he could easily deny her his cock? She squirmed in the restraints, moaning loudly, imagining his fingers deep inside her, clenching around him, licking her taste off and coming again.

"That's more like it," the Doctor appraised her, satisfied.

"Now beg for my cock," he repeated. This time, Amelia was happy to indulge him.

"_DOCTOR, PLEASE!_" She screamed, writhing. "I need you, I need you _inside _of me!" the pressure between her legs was becoming too much.

"What do you want?" He asked, his voice calm and cold.

"You! Please, _Doctor_, I want your cock!"

"What do you want me to do with it?"

Amy's breaths were shallow and fast. She didn't know if she could hang on long enough to answer.

"I-I want-" she breathed heavily, panting. "I want you to fuck me! Please, please, Doctor, fuck me!"

The Doctor smiled and plunged his cock into her asshole with fervor, causing Amy to see stars, pain rippling out towards her fingertips, but, God, it felt so _good- _As Amy came down from her orgasm, the Doctor quickly withdrew, causing Amy to whimper at the loss. She felt empty, and was still dripping wet.

She didn't have to wait long. Without priming her or easing into it, the Doctor circled around the contraption and rammed into her from the front, "Fuck-" He said when he was all the way in and her thighs were shaking against him.

She almost didn't notice the pain, not as the Doctor pressed his pelvis against her clit, finding a rhythm and speeding up. The Doctor tweaked and pinched her nipples as he thrust, and she came in a wave of pleasure against him.

The Doctor reached up and unhooked the cuffs from her wrists, catching her roughly before she fell to the ground. Next he unclipped the ankle cuffs, and she finally stumbled off of the metal rack and into his arms, sobbing and shuddering wildly against his chest. Hot tears ran down her face, which didn't make sense, because she was still insatiable as she stared at his- oh, God- at his _bulging, glistening _cock just hanging there, straining around the unzipped trousers, _right at her eye level_.

Without thinking, Amy leaned forward and enveloped him in her mouth. The Doctor moaned beautifully, a deep, arousing sound, as she stroked his length with the tip of her tongue, lavishing the shaft with swirling, jerking movements. He tasted so _good. _She licked every part of him, reveling in the smoothness and the length of it, in the delicious taste of his pre-cum.

Suddenly, the Doctor thrust downward, forcing himself into her throat. Amy gagged, unable to breath around his bulging length, until the Doctor pulled back slightly and rammed back in. After a few minutes of this, Amy became accustomed to the Doctor's size in her mouth, nestled at the back of her throat like a long-awaited lover finally come home.

She sucked and licked his cock until her mouth felt numb. Silent tears began to collect at the corners of Amy's eyes, and still the Doctor did not pull out. Instead, he took her tears as permission to ram into her throat harder and faster, throat-fucking her until his cock was as familiar in her mouth as her own tongue.

Releasing Amy's mouth, the Doctor yanked her up by her hair, not even giving her time to recover. He pushed her roughly against the corridor wall, her back slamming against the cold metal plating. The Doctor slowly eased his tip into her pussy, teasing the wetness there, until he slammed home with enough force to drive Amy up the wall, her feet lifting off of the ground a few centimeters. It hurt. But the Doctor had taught her to love pain by now.

The Doctor shuddered as her back hit the wall again and again. He hadn't orgasmed all (night? Day?) and Amy thought there must be something about Timelord anatomy that allowed him to hold off on an orgasm for incredible periods of time. Amy wondered if that meant that when it did come, it would be blinding.

When the Doctor came inside of her, stroking his cock in and out as she was pressed helplessly against the wall, an explosion of pleasure ripped through her chest, stealing her breath and doubling her over, which simply caused to slide the Doctor deeper in. He yelled her name hoarsely, driving his fists into her shoulders, digging his fingernails in her chest until he drew blood.

His orgasm was like nothing she had ever experienced before. She felt his cum swell inside of her, an impossible amount of warm, golden feeling liquid that filled her womb and gushed from her sex, running in rivulets down her thighs, pooling beneath her, pouring out of her even minutes later.

She collapsed in the cum, sure he would simply force another stimulant into her. She was tired and lifeless and she could tell that despite his orgasm the Doctor was becoming bored with her. Maybe he would let her go? The aphrodisiacs seemed to be wearing off faster the more the Doctor abused her.

After shakily picking himself up, the Doctor assumed his playful pretense again. "Why, Amelia, it's hardly fun anymore!" He cried. "Are you still caught up with that ridiculous will to fight me?"

Amy looked into his dark eyes defiantly. "Always," she spat.

The Doctor ran his hand through his floppy brown hair, so like _her _Doctor that the movement made her gasp in pain.

"Then I'll have to think of a more permanent solution," He pondered out loud.

Then he left, striding down the corridor, leaving her there on the ground.


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own Doctor Who. **

**AN: Alrighty folks, we've reached the end of our voyage together. But that doesn't have to stop you from leaving reviews that will make me smile!**

What the Doctor had done to Amy was called 'rape' by humans. The Doctor stuck his tongue out. The word left a bad taste in his mouth. Rape had negative connotations on Earth, and the Doctor would have absolutely none of that. What he had taken from Amy was his to take, and always had been, so the only question was how he was going to take it. Amy had worshipped him since she was a child, doting on him and always comforted by her faith in him, as he rightly deserved. After all, he had been kind enough to take her across the universe, kind enough to show her more than she could even imagine, kind enough to fuck her senseless. Amy had owed him, and he had collected on his debt.

He had to admit, he had a fetish for humans. Though not the best in bed and certainly breakable, humans with their soft flesh and rosy cheeks and eyes that widened and glossed over and teared were somehow beautiful to him. Their skin that broke and bled the most wondrous color of red, their dumb language and their even dumber faith.

He supposed it was because humans also stroked his ego. Much like the human's stories of 'God' and how he had vainly modeled a race after himself, so it was with Timelords. Humans looked like Timelords in every way, right down to the adorable nub of clit on every Time Lady and every human female. Of course, humans could never compare, what with their single heart and weakness and unextraordinary climaxes. But they were close, and they reminded him that he was a god.

He had never fucked one of his companions before. It got too complicated, too messy, and he preferred to have his pickings of the whole planet without a nagging companion jealous in his ear. But Amy was different.

It wasn't just her body, which was completely shagable and beautiful in heat, but everything about her. That instant connection with him as the First Face This Face Saw, which, unbeknownst to Amy, imprinted her into the lustful part of his mind as well. Even her fiery wit.

She was so adorable as she tried to struggle underneath his superior Timelord strength, so adorable as she tried to swallow his alien cock with her pitiful human mouth, so _adorable_ as she screamed with pain and her eyes dilated with terror.

She had waited for him, and he knew, Amelia Pond had been a slave to him all of her life.

The Doctor's first stop was a high school party, Leadworth, 2007. Amy Pond was a gorgeous, flaming redhead at the age of 18, a Senior girl with countless boyfriends, incessant foreplay, blowjobs and snogs, but never quite confident enough to take the final plunge.

The Doctor dressed to fit the times and entered the party, slipping some light drugs into Amy's drink, just enough to get her receptive.

Later that night, when Amy was drunk and stupefied, the Doctor led her to a room and planted her on the bed, instructing her gently. She had waited for him. She had saved herself for him. And now, on a teenager's bed in some obscure place on Earth, the Doctor took Amelia Pond's virginity.

It was her first, and it was loud and easy. The Doctor pushed her as hard as her newly broken in cunt could manage, using all of his tricks, knowing that the entire school had their ears pressed against the door.

She was a legend after that, but sore and aching and shaky, the sex breaking the fog of the drug. She cried silently, shaken and amazed by the pleasure she had just begun to know. She had a friend drive her home that night, lips sealed against prying questions- _Who was he? He looked about twenty! I can't believe you actually got a uni student to fuck you! _

She curled up in bed and sunk into sleep, unable to shake a nagging sense of familiarity.

One year later, he was there again, but when his past self slipped off to save the world from the Atraxi, expecting her to follow, the Doctor cornered her.

"Oh!" she squealed, jumping back. "I thought you just went that way…" She remembered last year, and was even more elated about it now that he had revealed he was her Raggedy Doctor.

Without asking for her permission, he rolled her police skirt up to her hips and fucked her against the radiator in her childhood home.

The Doctor carried on like this, spreading his influence across time, careful not to damage anyone's timeline except to spread Amy's legs at every point in their relationship. On the forest floor after the crash of the Byzantium, her eyes forced shut out of necessity (which made it absolutely brilliant when he fucked her too hard and she tried to stumble away from him, completely blind). In her room against the TARDIS, and then he tore strips from her wedding dress to tie her to her bed and eat her out without any struggling. In Venice after she stepped out in the wonderfully cut dress that showed the swell of her breasts so well. Against a stone wall in the monastery, the Flesh planning nearby. In a tent in Natzi Germany, until Amy licked dirt from his cock with vigor.

And every adventure in between, while the TARDIS was in flight.

Fuck her against the console.

Fuck her on the swing.

Fuck her in the pool.

Forcing her to masturbate as she sucked his cock.

Forcing her to watch herself.

Spanking and switching and biting.

His orgasms were a part of her life now, his pleasures the focal point of every one of Amy's memories. She had _always _had his cock in her, and now she always would.

When the Doctor returned to the TARDIS Amelia was wearing her normal clean clothes, hair cascading in neat curls down her back. Of course, being established lovers had somewhat rewritten the scenario of the day, but the Doctor had found a way for her to keep the memories, as if they were a dream or a nightmare or both.

The memories of her former life, before the Doctor's cock, would come back to her from time to time as incredibly vivid dreams. But she would not miss that timeline, not while the Doctor still lavished attention on her body. She had had dreams before, of course, dreams of a life with no parents or a stay in a big metal cube or a certain murderous streak that involved sexy eye patches. She would think nothing of it.

Now it was time to test his theory.

Amy looked up at him and smiled brightly, kissing him passionately as he neared. He knew her knickers were already sodden at the sight of him. It was a certain bit of conditioning, the type that also allowed him to make her come at just the sound of his voice.

There was an American scientist somewhere in the 21st century that discovered the effects of conditioning on dogs. Each time he fed them, he would ring a bell, until just the sound of the bell would make the dogs salivate madly, with no food in sight.

Amy looked to be about mid-sentence when the Doctor conducted his final test. His fingers gripped the head of the sonic screwdriver and he pulled it swiftly from his pocket.

Amy's eyes widened when she saw it. Her pupils dilated. And then she came, thrashing on the floor and screaming louder than he had ever heard before. She spasmed on the rough grating of the floor, arching her back, her knickers soaked through and a patch of dampness leaking through onto her skirt.

The Doctor smiled, watching her.

His Amelia Pond. Forever.

He couldn't wait to see what happened when he made her hear it buzz.


End file.
